Take Me Out Tonight
by PaLM TRee 101
Summary: AU Lizzie and Miranda go out and Lizzie makes a deal to go up to the cute, curly haired guy in the corner, but when going for the game of seduction, it is wise not to let it backfire.


A quick story. Let me know if you like it!

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The girls laughed and clinked glasses. They were seated at the bar of one of the more popular, risqué clubs in town. Friday night; a weekly ritual. They knew the bouncer at the door, or they couldn't have gotten in, for although when they engaged in their weekly routine their appearance added a few years, when they were away from all of the prestige and loud noise, they were, in all actually, only eighteen years old.

They'd been coming to the club for a while, and it hadn't taken them long to figure out how to get in without an ID. Just make friends with that big buff guy at the door. They'd also learned how to drink endless amounts of beer without even the slightest buzz, for when Lizzie and Miranda clinked bottles again, it was not beer they were drinking, but merely iced tea in a brown Budweiser bottle.

So they 'drank,' they met guys, they danced, they danced, they dance. However, dancing will make you tired, so after several songs, the girls had made their way out of the sea of dancing, grinding, half-naked drunks for a few minutes to themselves.

"What a great song. I'm exhausted though!" Lizzie breathed. She then took another sip of fake beer, and looked at the bottle, smiling, "those guys just can't figure out why we're not drunk yet. It's so funny."

Miranda laughed and agreed, then smirked and offered her friend a proposition.

"If you had to do one of them, which would it be?" she looked at her blonde friend through mascara-clad eyelashes, nodding her head towards a group of guys who had been unsuccessfully trying to keep up with them on the dance floor.

Lizzie looked over for an evaluation of the said guys, then turned back to her friend.

"The tall one, with the shaggy black hair."

Miranda looked.

"Dylan?"

Lizzie shrugged, unaware of the name her boy of forced choice.

"Whatever."

They laughed for a while, until they were ready for more. Miranda searched the club until she found what she was looking for.

"Let's make it interesting then. That one over there. I'll do your laundry for six months if you get him to like you and kiss you by the time the night's over, and HE has to start it. Got it?"

Lizzie turned to where Miranda was looking and grinned.

"You might need some detergent then."

The boy in the corner quickly turned around and headed for the door when he saw the blonde turn to look at him. He looked back and almost squeaked when he saw her walking towards him.

He saw a huge guy in a muscle shirt next to him, and figured that she was going to talk to him. She was just too beautiful for a shy guy like himself. He walked towards the exit anyway, but he glanced back to see the muscle guy stopping the girl to talk. Figures.

He walked down the street, feeling slightly less confident than he had when he'd sneaked into the club. He looked down at the sidewalk, kicking a rock as he walked.

"Hey, kid."

He turned and looked, and there she was, standing there staring at him. He didn't say anything. He just looked at her; watched her, feeling less-than-impressive. _Why is she talking to me?_

"Leaving so soon?" she asked him. Her head was tilted, so she looked at him sideways, with a trace of a bemused smile spreading across her face.

"I guess," he cursed himself for not knowing what to say. He cursed himself for letting his breath catch in his throat as she walked closer to stand in front of him.

"Can you dance?" she asked.

"Not really."

"Can you learn?"

He looked at her and found himself smiling. She broke into a grin and grabbed his hand to drag him back inside.

Miranda watched from the bar as her friend brought the guy into a corner and started to teach him how to dance, club-style. There was no denying it; he was horrible, but he was trying.

"No, like this!" Lizzie laughed at the boy's fatal attempt before demonstrating herself.

"I can't do it," the guy looked down, embarrassed because he didn't know how to dance and because this beautiful girl was laughing at him.

Lizzie bit her lip when he blushed and closed up. He was too shy for a club like this. Maybe that's what was wrong. She looked at him as he shuffled his feet, obviously trying to melt into the corner and disappear.

"Hey," she said softly. She touched his arm and picked his chin up. His eyes were scared, but a light, clear blue, like the ocean, or a sky on a sunny day. She shook herself and thought '_no laundry.'_

"We don't have to dance now, if you don't like it. Let's talk," she led him away from the pounding music to one of the more comfortable areas and they sat down.

He shifted uncomfortably on the couch in the awkward silence, and flinched when she tugged at one of the dark curls in his hair.

She sat back and sighed.

"So what's your story? You're so shy, why are you at the loudest, biggest club in town?"

He winced. He's seen her there the week before, and he came tonight to see her again, but how do you say that to someone that doesn't even know your name?

"I, um, saw this girl last week, and I came tonight to see if she'd be here." Good, that was vague.

Lizzie's eyes widened and she began to blubber apologies, standing up to leave, and feeling quite stupid.

"Wait!" He grabbed he arm and she turned around, "don't go."

He looked down at the ground, letting his loose grip on her arm fall.

"It was you."

She smiled and ran a hand through his curls. _Well he likes me. That's a start._ Now he just has to kiss her.

"I'm Lizzie," she said, giving him a warm, surprisingly genuine smile.

"David," he replied, blushing, "but everyone calls me Gordo."

She giggled, blonde curls spilling down her back.

"Gordo. I like it."

He gave her a shallow smile, then raised an eyebrow when she ordered another drink, not seeing the wink she gave the bartender.

"You seem to go through those pretty quickly," he murmured while playing with a plastic fork he'd found, unsure of the consequences of such an assessment.

"Well, I dance, so I get thirsty," she retorted simply, "plus, it's fake," she smiled and held her newly acquired bottle out so he could smell it.

He grinned.

"Is that iced tea?"

She grinned back.

"Yup."

They exchanged smiles and Lizzie nodded her head towards the dance floor. He shrunk back.

"Oh please, Gordo? Please?" She bit her lip and looked at him, purposely making her eyes bigger for the irresistible innocent puppy look.

He signed, giving in.

"Let's go."

She squealed and jumped up, taking his hand and dragging him to the dance floor. She gave Miranda a triumphant looked as they passed her, but led Gordo out to the middle of the floor.

"Less people look at you when you're in the middle," she shouted above the roar of the music.

They started to dance. Lizzie smiled and realized she was right when she thought he couldn't dance because he was shy. He was noticeably better than before, but there was definitely room for improvement.

She moved closer and placed his hand on her hip.

"Just let yourself go, I won't judge you," she said. He took a deep breath and did just that; and they dance.

Lizzie was surprised to find herself disappointed when the song ended, but a slower one came on and she looked up at him questionably.

"What about this one?" he asked her. He was shocked at how comfortable he was with this beauty of a girl he'd only met some hours before.

"Like this."

She took his hands and put them on her waist, then she placed her arms around his neck and smiled as the lights dimmed to balance the atmosphere of the song.

They stood there, swaying gently to the music, until Lizzie stepped in closer and leaned her cheek on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and placed his chin on the top of her head, and slid his arms further to encircle her back.

As soon as she did it, she knew she shouldn't have. The arms around her, the head resting on hers, the soothing music, the gentle way he was swaying her back and forth, it made her feel safe, and she didn't want to move. She knew she'd lost the control she'd had of the situation only moments before. This wasn't fair to her, and it wasn't fair to him.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head off hers. She took her head off his shoulder and looked at him, but she didn't pull an inch out of his arms.

He leaned down and Miranda watch from the bar. She had a lot of laundry to do.

His face came closer to hers, and her breath caught in her throat as she leaned up, but then she squeezed her eyes shut and pulled away before their mouths met.

"Gordo," she croaked, her voice uneasy, she looked at him through eyes that were slowly beginning to tear.

He looked down, hurt and embarrassed once more.

"Look at me," he did, "my friend told he she'd do my laundry for a few months if I could get you to kiss me before the night was over," she took a deep breath, trying ineffectively to keep the emotion out of her cracking voice.

"So I said 'ok'" and came outside to find you."

His eyes were pained as he listened, but she held onto his shoulders as she talked, so he held on to her.

"And then," she continued, "somehow I found myself having so much fun. I was actually enjoying it, and I think-" she paused.

"I think I might like you. A lot."

She looked away but he took one hand from her back and caught her chin, pulling her mouth up to meet his. She closed her eyes and slowly wrapped her arms around his neck again, while he wrapped his own arms around her waist and pulled her indefinitely closer.

Only when the song had ended did the two pull away from each other, and only a few inches away, so foreheads could rest on one another, and lips could meet every few seconds, in between twinkling eyes and upwards-curling lips. She took his hand, and lips met once more, before the two walked out of the club and into the night.


End file.
